This Time, After the First Time
by Lily Grace
Summary: A story of deja vu. What if Faramir and Éowyn knew each other from before, but all memory of each other had been erased? This is Faramir and Éowyn's story of how they get those memories back. AU FaramirEowyn, Grima, Theoden, Eomer, Theodred
1. Chapter 1

Éowyn looked at the sun streaming in through her window. She felt that her life was perfect. She had servived being face to face with death, her kingdom was still intact and now ruled by her brother, Middle Earth and all its inhabitants were safe, and most importantly; she was in love. Not only in love, betrothed. To the handsome, smart, kind, young Steward of Gondor no less. And now, not only was she royalty of Rohan, but royalty of Gondor, for King Elessar had made her and Faramir Prince and Princess of Ithilien. Life seemed perfect for her.

The light used to give her a headache after a while. Now, her heart was so light and full of love, nothing could keep her down. She quickly got out of bed, and her handmaiden hurried her into a light, yellow dress. She was to have a picnic lunch with Faramir that day, and she didn't want to be spending the entire time fussing over a ridiculously itchy, ruffly, or tight dress.

Making her way through the gardens of Ithilien, she found Faramir sitting on a rock, reading a book. He was dressed in a loose white shirt and dark pants, looking quite dashing in her opinion. She smiled as she looked at him. Something seemed very familiar about him at that moment. Éowyn dismissed it as being something Faramir would typically do...but she kenw it would bother her later.

"What are you reading, Faramir?"

Faramir looked up quickly, his face quickly melting into a loving, gentle smile.

"Good morning to you too. Ah, a book from my fathers library that I must have read dozens of times, as you can see...it's starting to fall apart."

She grinned as she looked at the halphazard state of his book.

He closed the book, still smiling at her. "'Tis a book about the Ainur." he looked down at the book. "They are angelic spirits from which the Valar and Maiar descended. It's called _Ainulundale_." He gave her a shy smile. "I find them quite fascinating."

"You don't find anything else fascinating, by chance, do you, my Lord?" Éowyn grinned shyly back at him, unable to stop herself from baiting him.

He was next to her with his arms wrapped around her faster than she had time to react.

"If I found you any more fascinating than I do, your brother would kill me before our wedding day!"

They both laughed. He gestured for them to walk, and she conceded, as they stepped onto the path.

"I want to show you something." Faramir told her after they had walked for a few minutes. She looked at him curiously, as they came to a small clearing, where their horses were waiting for them. She delightedly mounted her horse, giving Faramir a broad smile.

"Riding horses; why, Faramir, however did you know I would want to?" she teased him.

"Ah, my lady, this is not the surprise. I consider this just par for the course."

They set their horses at a gallop, as they rushed through the small paths, Éowyn trying not to run into anything out of anticipation. She looked at Faramir's back as they rode, and smiled. She knew they must look strange to any who saw them. A young man and woman racing horses without so much as wearing the proper gear.

Faramir slowed down his horse as they reached a clearing. This clearing contained a small lake surrounded by rocks. Éowyn gasped as she looked around.

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed to her love. Faramir smiled as he tied the horses to trees.

"It thought you might like it."

This again seemed very familiar to Éowyn. She couldn't understand why so many things seemed so familiar to her. She must have seen Faramir reading a book hundreds of times. Yet, she had never been to this place before. Why did it feel like she had?

"Strange," she murmured.

"What's strange?"

"I feel like I've been here before." She looked at Faramir, hoping he would shrug and say she must have been somewhere like it in her life. He looked at her strangely though. Almost excited.

"Remarkable." He murmured now.

She ignored the irony in her next remark. "What's remarkable?"

He sighed, walked over to a giant boulder, and sat on it. "I thought it was just me."

"Just you?"

"Yes. I found this place yesterday. When I came upon it, I had a strange feeling, a sense of something. As though I had been here before. Yet, I know I have not."

She nodded. "I have never been here before, either." She went to sit across from him, and looked at him seriously. "This is not the first time today that I've felt something strange."

He looked curious. "When?"

She smiled. "When I saw yu reading your book."

He grinned. "Éowyn, I read a lot."

"Oh, I know." She laughed. "This was different. Something about the way you were sitting, and maybe with what you are wearing. It just seemed very familiar."

He nodded, thinking. "Well, I sit like that when I read, especially on rocks, as I am now."

She nodded.

"As for what I am wearing, I hate to say this, Éowyn, but the last time I wore this was when I was around 28 or 29. You couldn't have been more than 16. I think I would remember you if I knew you when you were 16."

She nodded. "By that time, Gríma had already come to poison my uncles mind. If we had known each other, I wouldn't be surprised if Gríma had poisoned my memory, for I was much younger, so I would not remember you!"

She had meant it as a joke, but the second those words were uttered, she and Faramir froze, looking at each other. Was it possible? Could they...no. They couldn't have. She would remember Faramir. She would.

"Maybe..." Faramir said slowly.

"No, Faramir! I would remember you! I am certain you would also remember me!"

"You just said it yourself. We would have both been much younger, and would not have known of Gríma's deceptive nature yet. We know he was obsessed with you form the beginning. It is possible..."

She shook her head stubbornly. "It is possible, but I refuse to believe it happened."

He sighed. "Well, let's have lunch then, shall we?"

She nodded, a natural smile coming back to her face.

He saw her smile, and gave his own in return. He reached over, squeezing her hand.

"I will never forget you know that I know you, Éowyn. I love you too much."

Her smile grew wider. "And I you."

And it seemed, yet again, as though this had happened before, yet she had never heard Faramir tell her that. She thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Éowyn fidgeted as she sat in her straight backed chair. She hated having to sit like a proper young lady, while she watched her brother and cousin duel. She knew she was more skilled with the blade then her cousin, Théodred, but Gríma Wormtongue had convinced Théoden that Éowyn needed to act like a lady, now that she was coming of age.

She was 16. She had blossomed into much of what was going to become her full beauty within the last year. Many of the men in the court had noticed, and were already making rude passes at her. She did enjoy the freedom in mannerisms that the Rohirrim allowed, but she felt claustrophobic and violated around them. But not nearly as violated as she felt around Gríma.

"Agh!" Théodred fell over, his sword clattering to the floor. Éomer stood over his grinning, holding his own sword up to Théodred's chest.

"Hah! It seems I am the victor this time! No man of the Mark could beat me!" Éomer exclaimed, excited.

"I could beat you." Éowyn muttered to herself, knowing neither of them would hear her.

"A man of Gondor could beat you." Came a quiet, strong voice from the doorway. Éomer and Théodred looked up, as Éowyn turned her head to the door to look. She suddenly felt her heart drop into her stomach, as her eyes widened and her jaw fell. The most handsome man she had ever seen was standing in the doorway. He was tall, strong, with wavy reddish brown hair and blue eyes. The soft smile on his face made him look incredibly kind.

Théodred stood up quickly. "Ah, you must be the Ranger Captain from Gondor that my father has been expecting."

"I am."

Théodred trotted up to him, extending his hand. "I'm Prince Théodred."

The man smiled. "I'm Captain Faramir."

"This is my cousin Éomer, Third Marshall of the Mark."

Faramir nodded a hello.

"Oh, and my cousin Éowyn, the Shieldmaiden of Rohan."

Faramir suddenly noticed Éowyn, and stared at her. His face slowly melted into a kind smile. Éowyn knew she was in love.

She ran into the dining hall of Meduseld, only to nearly run into Faramir, coming from his chamber to talk to Théoden.

"Captain Faramir." She curtsied.

"M'lady." He bowed. "After I talk with your uncle this evening, I was wondering if you would like to ride through the hills with me."

"I would love to."

"I do not think my liege will approve, Éowyn." Came a cold voice from behind them. Éowyn and Faramir turned to find a small sort of man, pale looking, with greasy black hair and a stooped manner.

"Sir Gríma. How are you this day?" Éowyn faught the words out.

"I would be much better if I knew you weren't walking with an older man, alone."

Éowyn glanced at Faramir, and saw his eyes narrow at Gríma. Faramir immediately had a bad feeling about this man. He could easily read the hearts of others, and while he saw happiness, ease, and welcoming in the others, there was a distrust and hate about this man. Faramir did not like him, and knew immediately not to trust him around Éowyn.

Éowyn summoned her courage, looking hautily at Gríma. "I believe I can trust the Captain with all my heart, which is more than I can say for you, Sir Gríma."

He just looked at them coldly...and silently slinked away.

"Oooh..." Éowyn shuddered.

"That was fun," Faramir commented sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, I just can not stand to be around him. He makes me feel like a side of roasted meat."

Faramir looked concerned. "Is there anything I could do to make you feel at ease?"

She shook her head. "No, I thank you, Captain, but my brother has already stated quite loudly exactly how he will dismember Sir Gríma if he tried anything with me."

A short laugh escaped from Faramirs lips, and Éowyn liked him all the more for it.

Faramir was sitting on the steps of Meduseld, waiting for Éowyn when she appeared. Unlike his formal Gondorian Ranger Captain garb from earlier, Faramir looked comfortable and free in a light shirt and pants. She smiled and noted in her mind that she definitely liked this look on him. He heard her footsteps, turning to her swiftly, smiling. With a gesture towards the path, they both started to walk.

"How long have you been a Ranger, Captain?"

"Please, call me Faramir."

"So long as you call me Éowyn."

"Agreed." They smiled at each other. "I have been a Ranger since I was a teenager. I'm following in my elder brothers footsteps. He was a Ranger as a teen, became a Captain in his twenties...but alas, I cannot follow him in everything."

She looked surprised. "Well, you exceeded him. He became a captain in his twenties, and you, surely, could be no more than eighteen!"

It was his turned to look surprised. "Nay, Éowyn. I am twenty-six."

Éowyn was immediately struck by this. "How? How could you keep so much of your youth? My brother, cousin, and I look no more or less than our ages."

"I am of the Numenor, a Dunadan. And, my mother was part Elf. I will look like this until well into my early thirties." He smiled in amusement at her shock.

"You are of the Numenor?" She stopped, so he did as well, and turned to face him. "Who are you? You are not telling me everything."

He sighed. "I had hoped I wouldn't need to. Only your uncle knows who I am."

"I would like to. You can trust me with this secret. Is it so bad...?"

He shook his head. "No, no...I just do not like people to start bowing to me and asking of my every wish."

"Are you a Prince? A King?"

"Nothing so spectacular. Do you know of Denethor the II, Steward of Gondor?"

"I do."

With another sigh, Faramir spoke. "He is my father. My elder brother is heir to the Stewardship, hence my not being able to follow in all his footsteps."

She looked at him for a minute, then smiled. "I think it is a great thing to be son of the Steward. Why do you hide this?"

He looked up, into the horizon. "My father has never looked upon me with favor, so he asks that when I travel for diplomacy, that only the ruler I am to speak to should know of my lineage." The smallest tear escaped from his eye, that he had tried to blink back. He had never confided this in anyone.

Éowyn was shocked. She reached her hand up, and gently brushed away his tear. He turned his head slowly, looking down at her. Her eyes searched his face, looking into his eyes, realizing how deep his heart went, and whispered, "How could anyone not favor you?"

After looking at her for a moment, after hearing that statement, Faramir realized just how much in love with her he had become. He slowly reached down, and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, eager for the touch, disappointed that it was not more.

He leaned his forehead against hers, her eyes opening again to look into his, both shining with passion. "Thank you for believing in me," he whispered.

She did with all her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Faramir sat with Théoden in the Golden Hall, waiting to hear his response. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Théodred and Éomer sneaking a look at them from behind a pillar, close to the doorway that led to their chambers. Théoden quickly turned to Faramir.

"Your father is certain."

"He is, my Lord."

"How did he come to this knowledge?"

Faramir hesitated. "That, I know not."

"Has he told you when this will come to pass?"

"Neither has that information passed his lips."

Théoden sat down, almost grumpily. He looked up quickly. "Your father is going to contest. The Heir to the Throne of Gondor has been missing for thousands of years."

Faramir nodded. He could hear a small gasp come from the pillar. He glanced back just in time to see Éomer jerk Théodred back behind the pillar. Éomer gave an apologetic look to Faramir, then looked at him questioningly. Faramir shook his head inobtrusively, raising his hand a little, gesturing for them to keep quiet. Théoden noticed none of this.

"Showing up without warning...I have had enough dealings with your father to know he is not giving up without a fight. He wants your brother to be king..."

Faramir nodded, trying not to give away his own feelings on the matter.

Théoden looked up at Faramir, sad realization on his face. "He will want war."

"I hope," Faramir hesitated, "that it will not come to that. Yes, my brother would like to one day be king, but he is content with the Stewardship."

Théoden only nodded, a distant look in his eyes.

"My father wanted to inform you of his knowledge...he says he recieved in a dream..."

For a fleeting second, Faramir saw sarcastic disbelief on Théoden's face. He chose to ignore it.

"He wants to know what your position will be when the man shows up, claiming to be the son of Arathorn."

"What is your position, Captain?"

Another hesitation. "I'm afraid it is not my position to have an opinion-"

"Hah! I know you know when you should have opinions, and when you should not, and son, this is a time when you are free to have an opinion. I know you are quite capable." Théoden had walked over to Faramir, looking at him questioningly.

Faramir sighed. "I will accept the man as Isildur's Heir if he shows the proof that has been written."

Théoden looked at him slowly. "Then so shall I." He quickly nodded to Faramir to dismiss him, then walked to his chambers. Faramir made a sound of relief, then promptly turned to the now noisy pillar, where Éomer and Théodred were nearly fist fighting.

"Woah, hold back, your highnesses! Now how much did you hear?"

Théodred looked at him eagerly. "Do you believe your father? Is the King of Gondor really returning?"

Éomer looked at Faramir silently, and Faramir realized that he was capable of a lot more than just childish banter. The young man had the inherent air of a king.

He shrugged his shoulders, thinking. "I have yet to decide. Now, if you will excuse me, I have something to which needs attending..."

"She's in the armory." Faramir looked at Éomer quickly, ready to defend himself from what he thought might be an attack of a brother defending his sisters honor. Éomer just smiled slighty. His expression quickly turned grim, his eyes passing by Faramir. The three young men turned to see Gríma slowly walking away from them in the hall. "Find her quickly, Captain Faramir, before she is harassed by his foul presence."

Faramir didn't even need to be told twice. He trotted through the halls until he reached the armory. He heard crashing of metal being disturbed, and ran in quickly to help his love from her torment. Instead of the vision of Éowyn being pinned to a wall by Gríma, she was swinging a sword much to large for her in circles, trying to test it's weight. He was about to comment on the size, when she swung to hard, the force swinging her around, directly at Faramir. In less than a second, he had whipped out his own sword, and brought it up to hers, striking it with great force in his defense.

She looked at him in surprise for a second, then grinned mischeviously. He was about to voice his concerns over her dueling, when she swung again, their swords clashing.

"I am perfectly capable of besting my brother. You claimed he could not beat a Gondorian. Care to try me?"

He looked at her for a second, his eyebrow raised slighly. She smiled, innocently.

"Absolutely."

They immediatly both took up an offensive position, swinging their swords at each other, the clashing ringing in their ears, the weight singing in their arms. It delighted him that Éowyn was looking tired from the effort, but he knew his perspiration was giving away his own weakness in sword play.

With a quick back spin, Faramir was able to knock the sword out of her hands, causing Éowyn to stumble to the ground in delight, as he fell to the ground, leaning over her, his sword poised to her chin.

"Give up?" He questioned, a grin on his face apparent in his voice.

She nodded, a coy smile on her face. "Fair play."

Still grinning, he sheathed his sword, but did not move from his position. Neither did she.

"In your defense, that sword was entirely too big for you."

Her eyebrow rose. "Whose sword? Mine...or yours?" He couldn't help but notice that way her face flushed at that moment, turning pink, her eyes sparkling to the point of dizziness.

He didn't even realize that he had stopped breathing, as he became lost in her eyes. He could not fathom her beauty...she must have had some Elvish in her...or Numenorean...

He was just lost with her, but didn't care. She was home.

Her smile softened, but did not disappear. She knew what she wanted would finally happen. He leaned his head down more, and their lips finally met. The entire world melted around them. Neither had ever felt anything so true, free, and loving. Too many emotions ran through their hearts, as she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to move his arms to cradle her waist. Everything was perfect...

Except for the eyes, dark with jealousy...planning...watching...if they only knew...


	4. Chapter 4

He wanted to marry her. Yet, she was still so young. Why did he have to be so much older? Faramir sat down in his room, grumpily. He looked at his unfamiliar settings. Rohan was beautiful, but it was not home. He knew he could live anywhere as long as he was with her, but he loved his home so. She loved her home as well. Maybe they could live in Ithilien...

"I hope you are not poisoning the Lady Éowyn's reputation," came a slick voice that Faramir instantly knew.

He turned his head around, giving Gríma a look.

"I have done nothing to undermind her virtue. Not that it is any of your business, Sir Gríma."

Gríma's eyes flashed. "None of my business! Oh, Captain, everything that happens to the royal house of Rohan is my business! I am not King Théoden's advisor for nothing!"

Faramir looked at him cooly. "You are Théoden's advisor in state matters. Not family. Do not think I don't know that you are going to try to convince Théoden that _you_ are the best match for Éowyn! Théoden trusts Éowyn. He knows her. She is his own blood. He will let her be with whomever she chooses."

"And that is you, in your mind."

"In her mind as well." A sad look passed Faramir's face, that he had not meant to show, yet Gríma caught anyway. "Even if it is not me, I would still want her to be happy. Loving someone is knowing when to give them away, let them be. That is the greatest gift you can give them."

Gríma's eyes narrowed.

Faramir looked at Gríma shrewedly. "Do you really love her, Gríma? If so, are you willing to give her up?"

A smile passed Gríma's face. Faramir was surprised to see it. "It's not a question of whether _I_ am willing to give her up...but whether you are."

Faramir stood, turning away from Gríma, at the plains of the Mark.

"If you spoil her reputation, if Théoden turns ill towards you, you will not be able to have her. You will have to go away, give her up. Are you willing to keep yourself in check around her? You might be older than she, older than her age permits her to be courted with a Lord such as yourself, but you are still young. Have you learned control? Is Éowyn the first Maiden to have your love?"

Faramir acted like he was ignoring Gríma's words, when they were acually penetrating into his mind...

"Are you willing to leave her so you both have your honor?" Gríma said this in a whisper. He knew to look past the steady exterior on the young man's face. He knew his words were working their poison. He could make Faramir leave Éowyn. He could make Faramir forget all about Éowyn.

Faramir did not even realize that Gríma had left the room.

"What are you saying?" Éowyn's plea echoed in his ears. She was on the verge of crying.

"I can not be around you when you are still so young. I do not want to ruin a life we could have together. We have potential, Éowyn. Though, not yet now." It was killing Faramir having to say this. Gríma's words had been said, and Faramir hated that he was right.

"When? When will we be able to be together?" A tear escaped her eyes. With a whisper, she asked, "When can we have each other?"

Telling her was breaking his heart. "Not yet."

She tightened her hands in his. "What now? Are we to forget each other?"

He looked at her sadly, lovingly. He reached a hand up to carress her cheek. "Nay, Éowyn. Now that I have found you, I could never forget you."

He kissed her lightly. Her eyes closed when they kissed. Then, he left. She opened her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, trying to grasp reality. She turned to walk out, stopped when she saw Gríma looking at her. Without so much as a hello, she left the room.

Gríma smiled. It worked. He would make her forget him...

"Her love had left her...what will she do now?" He whispered into the chilled air. He turned towards where Éowyn had walked out, a sick smile on his face. "Oh, Éowyn? Éowyn...?"


	5. Chapter 5

Éowyn walked as fast as she could to rid herself of Gríma's stare. She ran all the way out to the steps of Meduseld. She stood there, watching Faramir and his horse galloping away, towards the White Mountains.

"I could never forget you, either, Faramir," she whispered into the wind that started to blow. Knowing she might not likely ever see him again, she allowed her tears to run freely. "Oh, Faramir! Faramir!" She cried allowed in anguish.

She did not even care that she heard Gríma's voice calling to her, "Éowyn? Éowyn?"...

"Éowyn? Éowyn? Awake, my love!" Gríma's voice had changed into Faramir's. Éowyn sat up, quickly, confused. She was lying in the grass, next to the lake that her betrothed had led her to. She looked at him in confusion.

"Faramir?"

He smiled at her. "You were crying my name aloud. I was worried someone might hear you! Were you having a bad dream?"

He was very concerned. He lay next to her, propping himself on his elbows. One of his hands had shaken her awake, and was now holding her shoulder. He had a very realistic dream, and her dreaming seemed ironic.

She breathed deeply, trying to gain her composure. "I had the strangest dream, Faramir, that you had come to visit Edoras when I was 16. We met and fell in love. Gríma Wormtongue broke us apart."

Faramir looked at her in shock. "Did we have a mock duel? Your sword was too large for you? And, we took a walk, we came to this very place, in fact, I think I was wearing the same outfit...?"

Now it was Éowyn's turn to look amazed. "You said that now that you knew me, you could never forget me...!"

He shook his head, sitting up. "How could we have the exact same dream? Have it be so realistic?"

She did not know. They looked at each other in silence.

"Gríma must have poisoned our minds to each other in such away that we forgot all memory of each other." Éowyn looked at Faramir matter-of-factly.

Faramir couldn't help but feel bemused. "Apparently, I was that much of a threat to him."

"So, it was real."

"It had to be."

They sat in silence yet again, contemplating what they had seen.

"We obviously never truly forgot each other. Why else would we have felt like many things that happened today seemed so familiar? Why else would our minds have given us our memories back in dreams?" he asked her.

She smiled at him. "We were meant to be."

He took her hand, smiling at her in return. "This time, even after the first time."


End file.
